Claw and Crown Bundle

by Richard Lunch

“I had to fight my way out of the pack. They are a vicious, desperate pack, larger than any pack should be. A hard winter is coming. I fear for the small children, the women who have to fetch water.”

  “This can wait,” he held up his hand, “get your rest and we will discuss this later.”

  Kilfa dragged me toward the door. I tried to catch the eye of any of the men. They did not move. They did not look at me.

  Three warriors followed us from the room. As soon as we cleared the doorway, and the view from the throne room, I felt arms on my face, my arms, my legs.

  “Agh-!”

  Someone shoved a wad of fabric in my mouth. They dragged my hands behind my back and bound them with rope. I kicked and thrashed. I heard a satisfying cry from Kilfa as my foot collided with a man’s stomach.

  There was a rush of air. A loud smack. I saw a flash. Nothing.

  Chapter 10

  Varghoss

  My stomach roiled as I rolled. I tried to breathe, but there was something in my mouth. I tried to move my arms. They were tied behind my back. My feet, too, were bound. I opened my eyes. The world spun around me, brown and dark. I blinked and tried to still it.

  It began to settle, to stop spinning. The color of brown became wood walls. There was a rocking that did not stop. It took me a few moments to realize that it was not my head, but that the room was swaying, back and forth. It took me another moment to realize I was not alone.

  “He’s awake, your majesty.”

  “I can see that.”

  At Fundinn’s voice I rolled onto my other side. He looked down at me. A smile played across his lips. I pulled at the ropes but they were tight against my wrists.

  “Do you know where you are?” Fundinn knelt down next to me. He had been drinking. I could smell the beer on his breath. I narrowed my eyes.

  “Right. You can’t answer. You’re on a ship, a slave ship. This time tomorrow, you’ll be in another land, serving someone who has no idea you were ever a prince.”

  “Actually, he might fetch a higher price from a collector if we say he is a foreign prince,” said a burly man.

  His arms were scarred and a coiled whip hung in his belt I did not like the look of it.

  “Do what you will, then, so long as he never returns.”

  At those words, Fundinn tossed a small bag of gold to the man and swaggered out the door. I heard Kilfa’s voice, and then their footsteps faded away. We were alone, in a tiny cabin, in what must be the belly of the ship. I could smell the salt of the sea, now that I thought about it. It was so unfamiliar.

  “I have a ship to captain, my handsome prince,” the man knelt down next to me and stroked my cheek in a way that sent shivers down my spine. His head was shaved and his long beard was tangled, “but have no doubt I will return to you, a prince so fine as yourself should be tested before he is sold.”

  My eyes widened. He left. The lock clicked. I had to get out. The ship was swaying. I rolled around the floor, looking for anything. The cabin was empty save for a bare bed, supported on four metal posts. I rolled until I was near one of them. I was right. One was rusted on a side, leaving the edge jagged. I pressed the ropes that bound my wrists against it and began to saw.

  When my muscles grew tired, I thought of Varghoss, his promise, and of the way he had looked at me, so unlike the way anyone else ever had. It gave me strength and stilled the spinning of my head. I sawed and when the last strings of the rope broke, I grinned, despite my gag.

  It was a few more moments before I was free, the ropes that bound my feet on the floor, and my gag removed. My mouth was dry, and my limbs were sore. I felt the back of my head. There was a lump. I stopped touching it and picked the rope off the floor. I squatted behind the door and waited.

  ~

  He was unconscious on the ground, his hands and feet tied, and secured to the wall. I took his whip, and his knife, and ring of keys. I resolved to return with chains as soon as possible. He had come in with such a slippery grin on his face, that I shuddered to think of what he had in mind. Now, I just had to find out who else was on this ship. If it’s a slave ship, there are bound to be other slaves.

  I slipped out the door and down the hall. The way the ship shifted on the waters unsettled me. The ship was both how I had imagined the inside of a ship would be, and somehow different. It was damper, and smelled of mildew. It was darker, too. Only a few lamps burned, secured by metal screens, up and down the hallway. They gave the place a low red glow like a dying fire.

  I listened. Sure enough, the clank of chains could be heard a ways down the long hall. I made my way down. Above, I could hear men calling out to each other. Most of the crew must be above deck. My mind ran through strategies. Where could we find weapons? How could we avoid being ambushed as we made our way above deck? I meant to secure this ship as my own. I am a prince, no, I am a king, and it is time to lead.

  I came to a large door at the end of the hall. It was locked. I put my ear to it and listened. Inside, there was the clank of chains and men’s voices. I took out the ring of keys and tried several in the lock. It was loud. I heard the men hush when the key turned in the lock. The door swung open.

  It was both worse and better than I could have hoped. The walls were lined with men. Their eyes were tired and their bodies hung from chains. Quite a few, though, were fit, perhaps even warriors. One looked up at me, puzzled, then to the whip at my belt. I put a finger to my lips and spoke in low tones.

  “I too was captured and placed aboard this ship. I have the captain tied in a cabin, and am in need of chains to secure him further. Would any of you men give me yours?”

  A man with flaxen hair was the first to break out in a grin.

  “Aye brother. I’ll give you mine. You’ve got his keys, then?”

  “I have,” I moved to him and unlocked the manacles on his hands, feet, and neck.

  He pulled the chains free of their rings on the wall and handed them to me.

  “Will these do?”

  “They’ll do very well.”

  Some of the men looked puzzled. Others looked ready, grins slowly spreading across their faces. They elbowed each other and whispered excitedly.

  “Now, is there anyone who would be interested in taking this ship back from the crew?”

  “Aye!”

  “Me!”

  “Come on with it!” said a man with one eye and dark hair.

  “I have but one ring of keys,” I said, “let us keep the silence until we are all free.”

  “And brother, how will we take on a crew that has swords, and spears, and bow and arrow?”

  I held up the chains.

  “You all have enough of these to make it difficult for any man to come near you without losing his brains, and if you will follow my directions, I believe we can take them down with very little risk on our side.”

  “How?”

  “Let me get you unlocked and I will tell you.”

  ~

  The captain, and his mate that had wandered down to check on him were chained within the small cabin, their mouths gagged and the door locked. The slave men had divided up their chains, and the yellow-haired man who had first offered me his manacles had the mate’s sword. I had the captain’s knife in my right hand and his whip in my left. We stood at the bottom of the stairs, well out of sight of the men.

  I waved to the men down the hall. They had a metal soup pot, filled with oil and wood. At my wave, they opened the screen of one of the lamps and dropped the candle into it. It burst into flames. Two of the men began to fan the smoke toward the steps to the deck. It only took as long as it took for my eyes to water for men’s voices to be heard up ahead.

  “Ye smells that?”

  “I smell it, ye.” Two sets of footsteps came down the stairs. They coughed in the smoke.

  “Rah!” I shouted and grabbed one around the neck with my whip.

  My golden-haired friend took his spear and tossed it away while he struggled and choked. From the sound of
chains clanging on the other side of the steps, it did not seem like things ended so gently for the other man.

  “Bind him,” I ordered one of the older slaves.

  He obliged, most likely glad to give up his chains. The manacles clacked into place and I heard more voices overhead. By now, the belly of the ship was filled with smoke. It must be billowing out the top onto the deck.

  “Captain?” A voice called down.

  “Captain’s here with us trying to put out this damn fire. Get yer useless ass down here with some buckets,” I shouted up.

  The men ran away and footsteps returned, a great deal of them.

  “Ready, men?” I whispered into the quiet.

  “Aye,” they called back as one.

  We let the men run down the stairs into the thick plumes of smoke. They shouted for the captain.

  “Now!” I called.

  We were on them. Chains clashed. Men screamed. I could not tell who was who, save for that the men holding chains were my allies. I grabbed a man and twisted the whip around his neck. He reached for his sword and I slashed at his hand. I choked him, and he fell down.

  I grabbed the next man I saw. There was a shout of agony. I looked away for just a moment. He swung his sword at me. I deflected it with the whip handle, and the two flew to the side, lost in the smoke. I slashed his throat with my knife. He fell to his knees. I looked for the next man, but there was none. After a few more swinging chains clanged on metal and wood, there was nothing.

  “Put out the fire,” I called.

  There was a scraping and then a hiss. One of the slave men upended a bucket of water into the pot. Steam followed. The smoke began to clear. I looked round at the men gathered around me.

  “Any one of ours injured?”

  “Not anything of significance,” a man grinned, “a few cuts, a few bruises.” He came forward and clapped me on the back. “We’ll need to know ye better, man.”

  “Aye, and I think we ought to call him captain,” said the yellow-haired man.

  They reached out in turn to smack my back or take my wrist. One mussed my hair and another laughed and drew me into an embrace, pounding my back.

  “We had best have these men chained before they wake, those that live,” I smiled and pulled away.

  “Just kill ‘em,” said one man.

  “There’s nothing in killing once you’ve won,” I kept my voice firm, “chain them, and the sooner you do, the sooner we can set this ship on course for our freedom.”

  That rallied them. They, the thirty or so slave men, worked together to carry the crew, which we much outnumbered, back into the slave hold. I followed, and once they were all inside, I turned the key in the lock.

  “What of the dead?” Someone asked.

  I sighed, “I suppose we should say some words before we toss them over the side.”

  “Aye,” said the flaxen one, “best to appease their restless souls, rather than sail on a cursed ship.”

  “What do they call you?” I asked him.

  “Thannen, you?”

  “I am Prince Varghoss,” I said. He raised his eyebrows, and I said, “It’s a story I mean to tell, to all, once we have this ship on course. How long have we been at sea?”

  “I’ve been at sea a month, traveling from village to village. We added a few new captures at each harbor. We are one day away from our last stop. They said we were headed south, far south.”

  “Then we have a day to return.”

  “If the wind is with us.”

  “Do you know of sailing, Thannen?”

  “I know of fishing skiffs, uh...prince,” he smiled, “but not of big ones such as this.”

  “It’s bound to be similar.”

  “If you say so, prince.”

  We followed the men carrying the limp bodies of those who had to be killed, four in all, above deck. Their hands looked delicate when they hung down, like the way the arms of children hung when they were tired. The men slung the bodies over the railing of the ship. All were silent.

  They were waiting for me. I rubbed the back of my neck and stepped forward. When I turned to face this ragged crew of freed slaves, it was so strange, because it was the first time that I ever felt like my father’s son, like a prince, like a king.

  “You did not die on the battlefield, facing foes your match. You died in a trap, on a fool’s errand. What I can say is that you fought bravely. Not a one of these men ran, and for that, we beseech Odin, and ask that he send his Valkyries, to bring you to Valhalla. May you drink, feast, and fight in the land of the warrior dead.”

  I made the sign of Odin above them. When I was still and silent, the men pushed their bodies into the water. There were four splashes.

  “We have fought well, men. Now, who knows how to set this ship for shore?”

  “Haven’t we a moment for drink?”

  “Drink will be found, and food, too, but let us set the course aright before we rest.”

  “If it pleases the captain,” Thannen said, “I will lead those who wish to turn the sails.”

  “It does. Who goes?”

  I sent most of the men to aid in pulling ropes and turning the rudder. The others I told to search for the food and prepare enough for us to eat, and something to feed our captives later. The ship was set towards land, as best as the men could tell, and we sat down, our hands sore and our hearts flying, to a feast of cold cooked meat, fruit, and beer.

  When all our cups were filled, I raised mine.

  “Hail to you! You threw off your shackles, and fought with bravery. To your spirits!”

  “To yours!” Someone called and we drank.

  I tried to get them to say who they were. Most would. Some only gave names. Some were criminals, captured and sold for their crimes. I tried to ignore the details. Some were only debtors, or men on the wrong side of a battle. None were from my kingdom, far as I could tell.

  “And who are you, then?” Called out Thannen.

  The sky was purpling with sunset behind him. The day had been long. Someone lit a fire in a grate in the center of the deck. I wished for a cloak, but there were none. Instead, I drained my beer and refilled it. The warmth rushed through my face, and let me forget the chill in my hands a moment.

  “I am Prince Varghoss,” I said.

  “And he says it so plainly!” One of the men called out.

  “I wouldn’t believe ye,” said one of the criminals, “but I never seen someone so used to ordering others about.”

  “That ordering got your skin out of chains,” I called back.

  There was laughter.

  “Is it true?” A man with leathery, tanned skin asked. He had said he was a farmer who had run afoul his lord, “are you a prince? How does a prince get taken for a slave? Was your kingdom conquered?”

  “Yes, by a man who killed my father and took my mother as a wife when I was very young. My father is dead, and my kingdom ruled by him.”

  “I’ve heard of you!” A flame-haired man shouted.

  He drained his beer and waved his cup in the air until someone filled it.

  “Tell me, then.”

  He took another draught. His cheeks matched his hair.

  “Yer father died when a lord got a small army o’ warriors who were dissatisfied together. They killed him, and yer mother. I heard he kept the young prince and to, ye know, make his taking the throne acceptable to the gods.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. Fundinn told me my mother died of an illness when I was still very young. He had said he loved her deeply. He had said they were wed.

  “Thank you,” I breathed. The men were silent, their eyes on me, “And tell me, if you will, why do they say men were dissatisfied?”

  “They said the king was a descendent of the Wolf Tribe. That he sympathized with them and let them roam free on his lands. Certain warriors…”

  “Go on.”

  “Certain warriors did not like the way the Wolf Tribesmen didn’t take on women. I happen to
disagree.”

  “Do you?” I tried to steady the hand that held my drink by putting it to my lips.

  “It’s no reason to kill people,” he said.

  “Aye,” a man said, and another agreed.

  “Seems it was the best excuse he could muster to rule,” Thannen said, “so what of you, then? Are you in need of a land to go to?”

  I thought of the old witch, and the castle I had grown up in, of the mother I thought had loved Fundinn, of the father I never knew...and of Ulfvaldr. I stood.

  “I toast you, and your courage today. It is no small thing to be ready to fight when you thought no fighting would come your way that day. I have a feeling many of you have not a home to go back to. It’s true, or some is true that I can vouch for, what our man here says. I am a prince exiled by a pretender to the throne. Before I was sold as a slave, I allied with the Wolf Tribe. In two days, they plan to overtake the castle. If you join me in reclaiming my throne, I promise you land or a place in the castle as one of my army, and a life unmolested. I can give you a life where no one will sell you again, and where you will not go hungry so long as we all have food to eat, and where you will never be cold, so long as a fire burns somewhere.”

  There was silence. I was tempted to say something, but I held my tongue. Thannen raised his cup.

  “You say I can live in the castle?”

  “Aye, Thannen,” I laughed, “you can.”

  “Food, a bed, roof, and all I have to do is kill some woman-murderer?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You have my,” he smiled down at his empty hands, “my hands and whatever weapons you can put in them.”

  “Me, too!” Shouted the man who had told the story, “I mean to settle down in a thatch roof cottage on me own land. We get this savage out of the way, and I get fertile land for farming?”

  “As fertile as we have.”

  “Deal.”

  After that, they all pledged, all but two men with wives and children who awaited them. I thanked them and told them we would give them enough of the ship’s supplies to make it back to their homes. I stood, and before I could raise my glass, Thannen called out.